Easy As Breathing
by RenaRoo
Summary: Damian is trained. He is prepared. He is no child. He knows the difference between life and death. Or, at least, he thought he did.


dkalban prompted: Near death experience

My only near-death experience was drowning, and really was more of an excuse for baby me to have my first existential crisis? That's all I have to go on. Then I added in Damian and Steph – the characters I'm least comfortable with – because I like struggling even more apparently.

Batman and related properties © DC Comics  
story © RenaRoo

 **Easy as Breathing**

Damian never realized that the splash of frigid water could burn through his throat so fervently.

It filled his lungs and he could feel his chest ready to burst. Then he tumbled, mercilessly, once more. Everything was rushing past him and his body was so tiny compared to the water that tucked him tight into a ball then slammed into him

 _again and again and again._

The waters pounded into his ears and he rolled again. Then a second time. Then again until the numbers were meaningless and the only time he knew up from down were the half second pauses when his neck bent or his rear slid against the hard concrete of the floor.

Water was blurring his eyes, somehow finding its way behind the eyelets of his mask, and closing his eyelids offered him no more protection from the stinging of rancid water.

His already blurred vision went spotted and his stomach lurched with another roll and the realization that he was never going to taste a fresh breath again was upon him.

 _This_ was not a way for Robin to go.

When his neck jerked back at the yank of his cape, it hardly registered more than another underwater tumble before the pressure somehow fought against the pull of tides and Damian found himself bursting through the surface.

Batgirl, wet herself, drug his body to the sewer's pipe she was balanced on and hoisted him onto it. Her infectious smile was one of the few visible things in the subterranean hellhole.

"Got you!" she laughed.

Damian shook from head to toe, hands flattening against the grimy surface, before he threw up every ounce of fluid he had swallowed. It didn't seem to stop, even when it was over and Brown pulled him into her lap, smoothing his hair with her palm and completely oblivious to the bruises forming on his neck.

His bruising was… honestly rather minimal.

After nearly ten hours of unprompted sleep back at the Manor, he stood in front of his full length mirror and stood in only his underwear to examine the full extent of the damage.

Some purple bruises on the base of his neck and tops of his shoulders, scrap marks of his hands and chin. He had an undesirably located bruise on his rump that even Alfred was agreeable enough to not examine.

 _"Tucked in when you hit the water, huh?"_ Grayson had said with a smile and a clap on Damian's shoulder. _"Good man. That's exactly what you're supposed to do."_

No, Richard. There was nothing good about it.

Damian glared at his bloodshot eyes and greedily sucked down another breath.

The image that glared back at him in the full-length mirror reached only the midsection of the mirror.

The standard for Damian's type of situation was to take the night off to rest before continuing patrol as normal. Something Damian usually found rather irritating, but Father received no resistance the following night when he reminded Damian idly that he was not to patrol with Grayson.

"Fine," Damian said shortly, and then returned to katas.

Grayson and Father exchanged looks.

He woke up normally the following day, closer to six. He ate the acceptable breakfast Pennyworth had prepared for him him in the kitchen, then went to the Cave for training.

It wasn't until noon that Grayson woke up and joined him for a spar.

"You look good!" the former Robin said, all genuine, as he blocked Damian's strike. "Got the nerves shaken out of you yet?"

Damian, caught off guard, went stock still and rounded to glare at his mentor. He felt his face grow hot before he snapped out, "I had no nerves!"

That earned him a sympathetic look before Grayson easily disarmed and pinned him. Damian struggled, feeling his lungs burning and his breath sucked away.

"Are you ready to patrol tonight, Damian?" Grayson asked, face serious as he purposefully maintained his hold. Damian gasped in air. "You can say 'no.' It's not going to be the end of the world."

Yes. It would be. The end of Damian's.

 _"I'm fine!"_ Damian hissed. "Now _get off,_ Grayson! I mean it!"

Reluctantly, Grayson got up, his eyes betraying years and years of experience and wisdom over Damian's own.

"I have to patrol," Damian emphasized as he got up himself, glaring at the man. "I _have_ to."

With a sigh, Grayson conceded.

Suiting up was second nature to any of them. They could all manage a full suit up in under a minute.

For the first time since he began to wear the emblem of the _R,_ Damian took his time and carefully accounted for each catch being latched, each piece of equipment in its place.

If Father and Grayson noticed - which they did, they were _Batman_ \- neither said anything.

After putting on his suit, a glass case near his locker caught Damian's eye. He neared it, staring for a moment, before turning to return to the shadow of his mentors.

The hairs on the back of his bruised neck stood straight up.

Batman and Robin were separated for all of two minutes before Batgirl appeared and Damian _immediately_ knew he had been played.

He glowered at the blonde as she approached, but he didn't get up from his scouting position on the ledge.

"Fancy seeing you here," she said innocently.

"I'm not in the mood," he glowered. "Tell Batman I'm not amused by his tactics."

"One or two?"

 _"Both."_

Brown made an appreciative noise but nothing further. For a moment, Damian vainly hoped that the conversation had ended only to have the girl drop down next to him, kicking her legs out over the ledge by him.

Turning enough to glare at her, Damian realized she was leaning back on her hands, looking coolly over the city below. Her body lacked any type of obvious tension.

"There are no gang meetings in that warehouse," the future Batman surmised dryly.

She turned and gave him a sad smile. "You already knew that, Robin."

And he did. He just hadn't admitted it to himself.

With his stomach feeling heavier, Damian glared back at the building and drew his knees up to his chest, ignoring the stinging at the edges of his eyes.

To her credit, Brown remained completely quiet while Damian sorted out the slight panic that he had been abandoned by his partner because Robin lost his edge. She instead just stared at him until finally Damian snapped and rounded on her, glaring.

"What do you _want?_ What does _Batman_ want from me?" he demanded.

She brought up one of her knees, resting her chin on it. "We want to know what's wrong, Damian. That's all. We're worried about you." Then added after a half-second pause, "Because we _care_ about you."

Damian felt his hearth clench and he turned his gaze back to the city streets. He didn't want to really process what was wrong with him. There was nothing wrong with him. _He's fine._

"Is it what happened in the sewers the other night?" she prodded.

At the very mention of it, Damian could hear the rushing water in his ears. "I wasn't _hurt."_

"You weren't _injured._ Much," Brown agreed, scooting closer. "But that doesn't mean it doesn't hurt."

Pulling on his legs tighter, Damian glared hard enough that the streetlights began to blur. "That doesn't even begin to make sense."

"I make plenty of sense," she reasoned with a shrug. "But I'm going to go out on a limb and say that you were pretty scared when the current got us, huh?"

Immediately, Damian dropped his knees and turned to glare at her, he snarled. "I am not scared! It wasn't scary! I'm _fine!"_

"Then what is it, Robin?" she pressed earnestly, turning from her perch to face him directly. "You can tell me. You know I won't turn around and tell anyone else. It'll be just you and me. But I'm _worried_ because your'e not acting like the little Bat Brat I love. You're scaring _me_ and I'd like to be clued in as to why."

Damian screwed his eyes shut and shook his head, feeling the sting of his eyes again.

"I… I thought," he began, throat feeling dry for the first time since he was submerged. "I thought I was going to die."

When he opened his eyes he saw Brown looking sympathetically back.

"That's pretty scary, huh?" she offered gently.

"No, I've faced death before," Damian huffed. "But they were… reasonable risks. I knew what was happening. I could estimate an escape when necessary." He lowered his head, glaring at his lap. "I… couldn't control the water. It just _happened._ I didn't… There was no plan. It was a surprise. And it was _strong._ And it was stupid."

Brown reached forward, grabbing his shoulder firmly. "Hey, that's not stupid. Anyone would feel that way," she assured him. Then, for some reason, added, "Drowning sucks."

"It's _more_ than that," Damian struggled, nudging her hand off half-heartedly only to find her attached to him harder. "I… I am not yet prepared to be Batman. I have learned this."

Looking more than a bit puzzled, Brown slowly nodded. "Right. Okay."

"And even though being Robin does place me in insurmountable risk, I have understood that to be the same position as Batman. We accept that there are infinite possibilities for harm to us in the field," Damian listed off, feeling his composure gradually rebuild itself as he continued. "In a world where I have faced _killer clowns,_ the very idea of drowning is… is…"

His mind scrambled for the right words, only to see Brown tilt her head and frown.

"Still very real," she stated. Her words felt like a harpoon. "And you realized you still had a lot of growing you want to do."

Damian growled at her, "I am _not_ a child." Despite his intensity, though, he found himself unable to keep his gaze. with her. "But… I am not yet Batman either."

"That's the scary thing about life," the Batgirl continued, leaning in closer until they touched shoulders. "We don't know what might happen or _when._ And almost losing your life," she paused, eyes going distant as she looked to the sky, "it can either make you realize everything you might've lost… or help you remember all the things you've got to gain." Her shoulder knocked against his. "Either way, though, you've got to learn to be more happy that you _didn't_ die than sorry that you almost did."

Before he could think about his words, Damian snapped, "And _you_ would know."

She didn't so much as blink before replying, "Yeah, Kiddo. I would."

Dropping his head, Damian berated himself internally, screwing his eyes tightly shut. He didn't even resist when he felt Brown's arm wrap around his shoulders and pul him in tighter for an embrace.

"You're going to be okay, Damian," she whispered in his ear.

Though he didn't hug back, Damian allowed Brown to get all of her affection out. Without admitting as much out loud, it was his way of saying he believed her.


End file.
